


genesis and revelations

by ictus



Category: Tenet (2020)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, M/M, POV Second Person, with apologies to Richard Siken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:46:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28730682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ictus/pseuds/ictus
Summary: It’s déjà vu again, it’s watching your past unfold before your eyes, and you justknowthis isn’t a first. Not for him.
Relationships: Neil/The Protagonist (Tenet)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38
Collections: Exchanges After Dark Birthday Bash 2021





	genesis and revelations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chicago_ruth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicago_ruth/gifts).



> I'm sorry I didn't quite make it to 19k, but if you reread this 28.83 times then you'll get there!

The first time you kiss Neil, it’s soft. Tentative.

Your fingers are hesitant where they trace his jaw, like you’re expecting him to back away at any moment. But when you draw him in with a hand on the back of his neck, he goes easily, like you’ve done this a hundred times before. It’s familiar in the way that everything is familiar, your own past revealed to you with every passing second, that sense of déjà vu that you can never quite shake.

“Oh,” Neil says when you break apart, still close enough that his breath ghosts your lips. “So this is it, then?”

The words get you like a blow, like a punch to the gut, so you react in kind. You draw him in for another kiss and this time, there’s nothing tentative about it. Neil’s entire body sighs against yours as you deepen the kiss, drawing him close so your bodies are flush. Your hand’s still buried in his hair when you break apart, and you tilt his head until your foreheads are touching. You tell yourself it’s because you want to be close to him, but really it’s so you don’t have to look him in the eye when you lie and say—

“It doesn’t have to be.”

Neil laughs, short and bitter, and you don’t have to be a time-traveller to know what he’ll say next. “What’s happened, happened—”

“Neil—”

“What will happen, will happen,” Neil finishes.

The cowardly part of you—the same part that hesitated for a split second before running into the proverbial burning building—can’t bear to meet Neil’s eyes. Can’t bear to see the pain, or worse—the resignation. So you kiss him again, and this time it tastes like an apology, like you’re sorry for waiting so long.

When you fuck him that night, Neil can’t stop touching you. His hands are restless, roaming your entire body as if he’s trying to catalogue every dip and curve, every scar, the twist and flex of every muscle. As you line up, his fingertips are ten points of pain on your hips, holding tight and not letting go, and when you finally bottom out, his eyes fall shut in a moment of perfect stillness.

And it’s not from the pleasure, although that’s written all over his face. No, if you know Neil—and you do—you know he’s trying to memorise this moment. You know he wants to distil it into something tangible, wants to fold it up like those origami squares he’s so fond of, and tuck it away somewhere safe, somewhere secret.

Later, the two of you share a cigarette.

This is another first for you—or so you think. But when he passes you the filter, still slightly damp from his lips, your fingers brush for the briefest of seconds, and you just _know_. It’s déjà vu again, it’s watching your past unfold before your eyes, and you just _know_ this isn’t a first. Not for him.

“You know I’m not naïve,” Neil says, plucking the cigarette from between your fingers. “I always knew this day would come. You did a good job of concealing it,” he adds with a sidelong glance: half impressed, half reproachful. “So I always thought we would have more time.”

(It seems impossible that men like you could ever run out of time.)

“Probably for the best though,” Neil says, passing the cigarette back.

You want to say something. You want to console him, to tell him everything will be okay, but you feel it too:

You also carry dread in your heart. You also live in fear of the day you reach an end that’s disguised as a beginning. The day you lock eyes with Neil from across a crowded room, and you’re met not with a smile, but a blank stare. The day you become a stranger.

So instead you say, “Ignorance is our ammunition,” and take another drag.

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/scansionictus).


End file.
